


Honey in the Sun

by EgoDominusTuus



Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: A/B/O, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Caine is an Omega, Cannon Divergent, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Pheromones, Stinger is an Alpha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:14:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26470216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EgoDominusTuus/pseuds/EgoDominusTuus
Summary: Caine has a problem, and Stinger is the only one who has the cure.---In which I owe PT a ton of stories, so I better just get to it.
Relationships: Stinger Apini/Caine Wise
Comments: 7
Kudos: 29





	Honey in the Sun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ProwlingThunder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProwlingThunder/gifts).



Stinger Apini had never felt the burn that was pouring through Caine, but he could tell that it was causing the lycantant more pain and issues than he would have desired for anyone in his squad. They were stranded on some god-forsaken planet on assignment to scout out, and as soon as they’d landed, Caine was acting oddly.

It wasn’t the oddest thing at first; feverish, warm, a bit reckless… those were all things that defined Caine when he was in the mood for a fight, when he’d gotten himself worked up for an assignment. Those were all things that could have been normal, if not for the smell that was wafting through the air. 

It smelled warm and hot, saccharine, and nefarious all at once. It smelled, much to Stinger’s chagrin, like honey in the sun. 

“Caine?” But the man was shivering, and he sliced his arm through the air like a physical weapon, as though the motion would stop Stinger from going anywhere that he wanted to know. They both knew that. “What’s wrong?”

“They didn’t give me my fucking shot before we went out. I didn’t think…” he shook his head, that arm that had tried to ward Stinger off now wrapping across his stomach, “I didn’t know that it was going to happen this soon.”

And Stinger knew what _it_ was because it was burning across his senses and threatening to addle his mind; however, he had taken the injection that the Legion passed out to all of its crew -- it wouldn’t do them any good if they were writhing piles of fuckary all the time, after all, and with so many men, there was no way that someone wouldn’t be in heat at any and all moments of the day.

It was an inconvenience that they couldn’t afford, but somehow Caine had written up a bill for it, anyway. His was covered in a sheet of sweat, and his full lips were trembling as he stood there. He was usually so strong, so controlled, but in this moment… Stinger could see that his insides were squirming, that his whole body was writhing with pain, or need, or something else that had nothing to do with control and everything to do with…

The smell of honey. 

Lucky for Caine, they’d landed on a remote part of their target location, and had confirmed that there was no intelligent life for a few miles around. The only one here who could see this moment of need and desire roiling through him was Stinger himself… and an odd thought was slipping into the back of his mind. Forming and taking hold and refusing to let go.

“You won’t be able to concentrate until we sate this, will you?”

“I--” But Stinger stepped forward, his hand gripping Caine’s vested shirt. 

“It’s my responsibility to take care of you.”

“I--”

“Stop arguing.” 

Stinger pushed Caine back, towards the small ship that they’d landed with, and the Omega was only eager to comply, forgetting his arguments in the wake of Pheromones that suddenly poured through the air from Stinger’s frame, making Caine wet enough to drench his uniform, nearly making his knees collapse from beneath him.

What good was being a bee-splice if you couldn’t use all aspects of your biology to your advantage, after all?

Caine's eyes were half-dazed from the sudden flood of hormones washing through him; Stinger, who had been neutral only moments ago was suddenly the most Alpha creature that he had ever run across. 

"Do they," but he could barely gasp around his desire, barely think around how much he _wanted_ Stinger suddenly. "Know that you can do this?"

"If they did, I'm sure they'd kill me." Stinger had never shown this ability off before. He'd never once allowed them to realize that he held the power and influence to turn entire troops into a writhing mass of bundled nerves and needs. He wasn't sure how, but he was positive that they would use it to their advantage... and in doing so, use him in ways he was unwilling to allow.

He would not have that control wrested from him as much as everything else.

"I--" Caine's eyes were fire, his pupils blown in need and _want_ in a way that Stinger was only imagining had something to do with more than just the hormones he was exuding. 

"Shhh," his voice was a cool demand, and he put his hands to the wolf-splices chest and gave a hard shove, so that Caine tumbled back into the ship, going near head over tail onto the cushion of the flight seats. "I'll take care of you."

But was that all that it was? 

Neither of them seemed anxious about the implications. As soon as his back hit the leather, Caine was shredding his clothing from his body; hands were claws, ripping the uniform that he would have to eventually replace. It was too tight though, too constricting for the fact that his skin was burning up. He was a boiling mess of heat and need and every inch of air that could touch his flesh was a momentary reprieve. 

He knew that he needed more than air. He needed Stinger. 

For his part, Stinger had kept his mind completely - the desire pulsing through him was his own. Yes, he could smell how delicious Caine's scent was, wafting through the air. And yes, he could feel the need of it tickling along his frame, making his cock hard and his head spin... but his ability to control pheromones meant that he could control his mind.

Which meant that he was going into this with all of his own awareness, all of his own knowledge of what he was doing.

And he knew what he was doing -- what he'd wanted to do for some time now. 

He didn't tear his clothing when he disrobed. They landed in a neat pile beside the ship, and then he stepped forward, clambering over strips of shredded leather to crawl on top of Caine. 

"Do you want this?" Stinger's voice was a hot demand that lashed out against the senses. Consent, in a moment like this, was something that wasn't easily given. The mind wasn't there -- the body was the driver.

"Mmmmnk." Caine's fingers were scrambling for him, trying to pull him down to press their frames against one another. A hand flashed out, and Stinger gripped his face hard, rough enough to get his attention for a moment. "Do you want _me?_ " 

The words were a burning question that seemed laced with so many underlying meanings. If Caine could manage to say no -- and if any Omega could say no in the wake of a full-on heat, it would be Caine -- then Stinger would have backed off. He didn't want to take what was unwillingly given.

But Caine's eyes flared wide, and a growl pulled from his throat. He jerked his head from Stinger's grasp and surged forward. The _yes_ that he snarled out was barely audible over the rumble coming from his chest, but it was good enough. That, and the fact that his hands were suddenly around Stinger's back, dragging him down so that their nude bodies made contact for the first time and sent the wolf beneath him arching up and moaning out in pleasure just from the simple touch of skin to skin. 

Maybe he was laying the pheromones on a little thick... it didn't matter, though. Stinger's mind flooded with desire then -- Caine's scent was in his nose, and he couldn't shake it. His heat was penetrating his body, and he couldn't feel anything past it. His need was rolling through him, and the only thing that Stinger could do was make sure that he sated it.

"Fuck." He muttered the word out, but his lips crashed forward and against Caine's, his tongue greedy and hungry as it pried into his mouth and stole the taste of him for his own. His hands trailed along the Omega's flesh, nails digging and biting against him, his lower body grinding so that their cocks slid and slicked along one another in a teasing manner that had them both panting in desire and need.

"Now." No please from Caine, only that demand -- but it was still said in such a begging, growling tone that it ran straight through the bee-splice. "Now... Stinger, now. I can't..." Even those words were well fought from him, and Stinger would not make him fight any longer. He shifted his body long enough to pull back from Caine and then flip him over, so that he was bent across the leather seat and his full ass was sticking in the air. 

The scent of his heat flooded the cabin of the ship, and Stinger closed his eyes in reverence for just a moment before working his hips forward -- there was no resistance there when he touched his tip against the ring of slicked muscle. There was no resistance when he pushed forward -- only a tightness... a heat, and a scream that rocked through the air and penetrated his very senses. 

In that moment, feeling Caine tight and hot around his prick, hearing that scream and having those hormones flood through the air all the more... Stinger lost grip of his control, the careful flood of the pheromones. They shot through the air -- rolled through them both -- and sucked them down like a riptide. 

This had never happened to him before -- he had always been in complete control of the abilities that came with the pheromones. Now they were turning and churning inside of his own mind, and he realized that the air that he was putting off had mixed perfectly with the scent of the Omega beneath him; somehow, he and Caine were a perfect match, but that perfection came at the price of Stinger's carefully fought and won control. 

He groaned, logic quickly feeling his mind at the sensation of his body sliding against Caine again -- the climate of the planet they were on was humid, but the sweat already beading on their skin had nothing to do with that and everything to do with how they wanted, how they burned, and then how Stinger was suddenly moving. It was a flex of hips, his fingers gripping the metal bar on the seat behind him... and then he was moving.

There was nothing in his mind then, but the feel of Caine beneath him, of the fact that the Omega was perfect, that he was in heat and ready to whelp pups that would be more powerful than the Legion had ever even though of before. Their splices were forbidden to mate -- Stinger didn't give a good god damn about the rules. The heat in his mind wasn't allowing him to care about anything, other than how the man beneath him was whimpering and whining, posturing and thrusting his ass upward to give him easier access. Not that Caine had given himself over to the heat; it was the fact that he was _giving_ himself to Stinger.

He knew it -- there was a decision in this, a decision that he had been hurtling toward all along, but somehow had ignored the possibility of until this moment. 

Logistics, however, and the repercussions of what they were doing would have to be thought about later. Whatever mind Stinger had left to him was slipping away in the wake of the motion of his body, and his hips took overall facilities in his mind. He worked, thrusting in, feeling that heat and warmth and slickness, and then pulled out. It was a moment of torture, to have the air between them kiss at his body, give him that space of separation, but then a sweet relief when he pushed back down and filled _his_ Omega again. 

His. The word rang through his head, stuck true, and became a part of Stinger's genetic makeup just as much as his bee-nature was. It was a simple fact.

"Caine," Stinger had to call out his name, and then shift back for a moment. There was a growl of protest beneath him, a flash of his dark eyes, all of the prowess that he had fought so hard to possess; he'd always functioned in a state of _trying harder_ because he was viewed as _lesser_ for his albino status. 

Stinger had only seen it as a strength. 

"Caine!" He had to bark out the word to the man beneath him to stop thrusting upward, topping from the bottom in his moment of need. Stinger pulled back completely, and Caine actually twisted in a flash of motion and lashed his hands out, scrambling for him to pull him back. And that was more than enough for him -- Stinger had only wanted him on his back, after all.

He came forward again, this time hooking one of the man's legs up over his shoulder to extend his body, open him up, give him the access and leverage that he needed for this claiming; he needed to see him, to watch his face as he buried himself to the hilt in that heat.

To see his face when Stinger came inside of him with the knowledge and weight of what that meant; in the back of his mind, he knew that he should have asked. He struggled to translate that to the forefront of his mind. 

"I--"

"Shut up." Caine's voice was a harsh, moaning demand, and his fingers shot forward to twist into Stinger's sandy hair, to pull him down so that their bodies pressed in one hot line against one another and the thickness of the bee-splice's prick buried all the deeper in the willing and pulsing body beneath him.

He could always ask later, rectify the situation if he had to (though his mind gave a vicious snarl at the thought of doing anything that would harm the child he intended to father on the lycantant.) Later.

Later.

Worries for later, because there was nothing but pulsing heat and pleasure rocking through his mind _now,_ and Stinger finally just gave himself over to the motion of his frame instead of the thoughts attempting to claw through his mind past the haze of pheromones that had somehow slipped and infiltrated into his system just as much as they had Caine's.

He grunted, low and demanding, his mouth working in tandem, tongue licking and lapping to taste every inch of the warmth of the sun in Caine's mouth. Honey -- of course, it would have been honey.

He closed his eyes, gave himself over to the instinct that was driving him now more than anything else. His body worked, thrust, drove hard and fast until they were both panting, both lost in the waves of what was happening -- it wasn't hard for Stinger to shift the pheromones slightly; he didn't have the mind to take them out of his own system, but he had=[ the ability to bypass the shots that the Legion had given them to make them infertile. It wasn't a difficult thing -- it was a simple blocker.

He erased it -- he let the flood of pheromones coming off of him manipulate Caine as well, bypass those barriers so that there was nothing between them... nothing to stop them from doing what base instinct demanded from them both.

The groan beneath him told him that the man could sense that something had shifted, that something was different.

"It changes everything," Stinger whispered the words hot in his ear, unable to articulate the full weight of what was happening.

"I don't care." Caine's reply came fast and hot, and that was all the permission that Stinger needed. His hips flexed, he worked harder, faster, drove until his mind was a spinning whirl of desire and swirling emotion... and then the weight that had been building in his torso, making his muscles clench and his body scream that _now was perfect_ and _it had to be done_ and _to claim him forever,_ was suddenly released in a hot, flooded wash of cum that spilled from his tip and filled Caine's body in a way that the lycantant had never experienced before. 

The heat of it made Caine lose himself. He snarled and growled, scrambled and clawed at Stinger's body until he left rivulets of scarlet against his flesh where he tried to find a hold as his universe flew apart; but it was too late, and there was nothing for it as the pleasure washed through him, sent his own seed flying from the tip of his cock and spattering between the both of them -- left his body pulsing and clenching and holding tight to the gift that Stinger had left inside of him and the promise of life that seemed to bubble there almost instantly.

They knew, somehow... they both knew that it would take.

They knew that they had done something that changed _everything_ , because they couldn't go back now. The Legion would kill the promise of _life_ inside of Caine at the least, and kill them both on whim alone. 

No. Stinger had been right.

It changed everything... and panting, laying in the circle of one another's arms, looking at each other with wide eyes... Caine had also been right. 

They didn't care.


End file.
